Haunted
by AmeliaGallifrey
Summary: Figures from the past haunt both Alex and Tony, and, as usual, wine serves as a distraction. Oneshot. Very slight Alex/Tony.


Disclaimer: Everything recognisable belongs to Val McDermid and/or Coastal Productions.

**Haunted**

Alex is tired.

A porcelain blonde ice princess with piercing blue eye haunted her dreams until five am, when she sat up in bed, flipped her laptop open and Googled. Carol Jordan is beautiful; feline eyes, perfect ski-jump nose, buttermilk-pale skin, wisps of spun silk hair falling in perfect lengths around her high cheekbones. God. After that she couldn't get back to sleep.

She paces through the morning, yawns through the early afternoon, and after checking her phone for the fortieth time she gives in.

The university reminds her of her childhood. She follows the labyrinthine cobbled paths to the Psychology wing, but Tony's office is empty. She tries the library, the bigger lecture halls, tutorial rooms, nothing. She calls his mobile again, lets it ring to his somewhat inane voicemail message, smiling despite herself as his voice sounds in her ear. She dials again, stepping from the darkened building out onto the sun-drenched green. Stepping between the clusters of students stretched on the grass, she doesn't notice Tony stepping from the shadows near the library.

He watches her for a long moment. The sun falls lightly on her burnished hair, and as she turns he sees the slight smile on her face, her attention focused on the mobile phone pressed to her ear. It takes him a solid minute to register the buzz in his breast pocket. He frowns at the little screen, then smiles, looking up across the grass as he hits the Answer call button.

"Alex?"

"Tony! Do you ever answer your phone?"

"I"m answering it now, Alex."

"We got the DNA back from the trace evidence under Cindy Matheson's nails. Nothing."

"No match in the database?"

"Nup."

He breathes in slowly, narrowing his eyes on her form.

"I'm sorry, Alex. I was certain he'd be a known offender."

"I know, Tony. I thought so to."

"That doesn't make sense, Alex. He'll have a history, petty violence, assault, stealing."

"Or maybe he hasn't ever been caught."

"Maybe...Alex, I want to go over the case files for the first two victims."

"I can bring them over. If you're not busy."

He doesn't miss the slip in her voice, the unnatural lilt.

"I'm not busy, Alex. Let's go."

"What?"

"Oh, Alex, over here."

He waves, smiling goofily, as she spots him across the quad.

"Tony..."

*

"Where's Ben tonight?"

"At his dad's new place."

"Oh. So... how's it going, having him here in Bradfield?"

Alex fixes him with a cutting stare. "Fine, Tony."

"Really?" He leans against the dining table as she pours two generous glasses of red.

"I don't know, Tony. It's working so far. Ben loves it." She sits, spreading files across the table. He chooses the seat at her right elbow, picks up a scene photograph, while Alex shakes her head at his feigned innocence.

They go over the case files for hours, working through two bottles of red, and eventually the notes and scene pictures lay abandoned as Tony turns in his chair to watch her closely as she speaks.

"Gabriel keeps asking me to consider giving it another go. The marriage."

Tony swallows the swirl of nerves in his throat.

"And are you considering it?"

" I can't, Tony! I can't go backwards, Gabriel and I... we're a train wreck. He brings out every bad habit in me, every tiny little thing I don't like about myself, he just... makes them all a hundred times worse. I used to love him... but I don't, not anymore. I'm a different person, to who I was when we were married."

"Sounds like you don't need to consider it at all."

"Gabe can't seem to see that, though."

"Well, he loves you. It's understandable."

She pauses in her train of thought to fix her green eyes on him.

"What's understandable?"

"That he loves you, doesn't want to let you go."

"It's been five years, Tony."

"Five years... so you take a long time to get over, Alex."

She rolls her eyes, swipes his shoulder. He grins, chuckling at his own bad joke. She stifles a yawn.

"I just hope he sticks around. For Ben's sake."

"Hmm. Me too."

She surveys him for a moment, watching him tracing a pattern across the table top, humming to himself, charmingly distracted as usual.

"So, what about you?"

"Me?"

"Tony... I know Carol Jordan's been in touch with the ACC. I know she's applied for a post in London."

"Kevin? Or Paula?" He quirks an eyebrow toward her.

"Both."

"So?"

"So... has she called?"

"She... left a message on my answering machine. Which is more than she did when she left, funnily enough."

Alex swallows the nausea looming in her gut.

"Tony... I'm sure she thought leaving would make it easier, for both of you."

He turns to her, his impossibly blue eyes fixed on hers.

"I suppose she was right. I... I don't know if there's necessarily anthing to say, Alex."

He yawns, unable to conceal it.

"Okay, that's enough then. Bedtime, Tony."

She stands, laying both hands on his shoulders.

"Bedtime?"

"Bedtime, Tony."

"Oh, right, then." He almost leaps from his chair, looking at her expectantly. She doesn't get it, not straight away.

"Two choices, Tony. The sofa, or Ben's room."

"Oh. Oh."

She shakes her head, twining her arm through his.

"Come on, Tony."

Something wakes her at three am. She lies perfectly still, listening for a burglar or smoke alarm or Ben's shout, but there is nothing. No sound at all. Then the wine hits her again, and her head begins to thump. She groans, sitting up to sip from a well-planned glass of water on the bedside table.

"Alex."

His voice sounds from the dark, only squinting can she make out his outline, leaning against the doorframe. His white shirt is untucked and half-unbuttoned, his hair rumpled, stubble bruising his cheeks. Alex tugs the sheet a little higher over her chest.

"Tony? Are you okay?"

"Mmm. Can't sleep."

"You're drunk."

"I know."

She pats the bed next to her, and he flops ungainly down, lying full-stretch on his back beside her, locking his finger beneath his head. She shifts awkwardly onto her side, elbow propped beneath her head, watching him.

"Are you drunk?"

"Not anymore. I've got a headache, though."

"I think I drank more than you."

"You did."

They lay in silence, Tony's eyes fixed on the ceiling, Alex's fixed on his face.

"I don't want to see Carol, Alex. I don't want to talk to her. She left. She left, without telling me, without saying goodbye. We were close, once. But I wouldn't have left without saying goodbye to her, Alex."

"I think she had her reasons, Tony. Don't think she didn't care about you, just because she panicked."

"Is that what happened? She panicked?"

"I... I think so, Tony. You don't see it, but... being with you, Tony. It's intense."

"Really?"

"Of course. I can understand... why she felt she needed to run away. I think. But I don't agree with how she did it. You're right, Tony. She should've told you. She should've said goodbye."

"Hmm." He turns to the ceiling again, and she dares to lay a hand on his chest. His skin in impossibly warm through his shirt, and she feels his heart thumping clearly, resonating through her fingertips. She swallows, draws a breath, crosses her fingers behind her back. Her voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.

"I wouldn't, Tony. I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to you."

The silence at the end of her sentence is deafeningly loud, the wait as he turns his head an eternity. He is so close, and Alex doesn't dare draw breath.

"I know, Alex. I know you wouldn't do that to me."

I would never leave without saying goodbye_,_ she thinks. Iwouldn't leave at all.


End file.
